Picture ya life on the subway –
Labeled a runaway.
Always taught to chase dreams, but catching them was never imagined.
On the train til infinity, where every malfunction exceeds a boundary.
The sky ain’t the limit, its the ticket.
What’s the difference?
I can see beyond the colors of the prism.
I have touched many moons.
Floating – weightless –
Patient.
Healing myself, still doctoring the wounds from when they severed the ties to my portal.
The only home I’ve known, now it just seems as if love don’t live here no more…
So I roam.
Telling the streets my secrets.
Leaving tattoos when I spit the words penetrate the skin.
The concrete cracks.
A Rose emerges.
The train door closes before I even look back…
I pricked myself on the thorns, I wail as the horn sounds…I realize
My overstanding reality is under attack.
-Vigilant Leighrick

To forget is to remember, because you’re always going to make sure you don’t bring up the forbidden. Then it haunts and taunts you, but it’s not really there; though its ever present. On the other hand, you don’t remember, remember you forgot, about that one time you wished was never made a memory.
Now it’s history, playing the leading roll as the extra that shouts during a silent film. Bothersome, a smile is usually a cure, these thoughts are even more minuscule when I laugh.
What’s on my mind? I’ve told you this story a thousand times, or maybe that was the one about when I was 11. I forgot I promised myself I wouldn’t tell anyone, except the first person I see if I ever made it to Heaven.
I was thinking all of this when I was 7. 13 years later, wait…..what was I just writing about? I realize I’m looking in the mirror — wait….what am I crying about?
This isn’t really considered lying, if no one ever knows the truth. It’s not your apologue to pick and choose a heroine! I do what I feel is best, and from experiences we grow and come to gain knowledge.
At a young age wisdom pierced through my gums trying to break the silence, and instead of removing the pain, I embraced it.
I’ve been a victim of violence, I’ve been a master of persuasion. I’ve sacrificed my self for love and repeatedly been heartbroken by patience.
No medication, only Meditation.
On occasions I sit and reminisce about the memories I forget, write about them, and then burn the pages…..
I sit —
damn, what was I going to say again?